


do i wanna know?

by tobylove



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Drinking, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, I’m guessing they’re all college aged, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Partying, bear with me, drugs?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-10-30 20:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17835650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobylove/pseuds/tobylove
Summary: It was supposed to just be a quick introduction to the kid. Maybe a one-night stand. That changed as soon as Richie saw his face.“Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey everybody, it’s toby again!!
> 
> i had deleted my account but i couldn’t stay away from the archive lmao. so here is my first fic back!
> 
> this is inspired by the arctic monkeys song of the same name  
> idk as usual i’m writing off the cuff so.... ill just play it by ear
> 
> alright. anyway. damn it feels good to be back. i hope you like! i love you all ♡

It was chilly outside, mid-October. Richie had stuck his hands in his pockets and watched as cold air mixed with cigarette smoke puffed from his mouth. He was walking to Stan's—nothing new, Stan was like his little brother after all, and Bill and Bev would be there as well. Along with their significant others.

 

Gross.

 

Richie didn't like to be a party pooper; in fact, that was the complete opposite of his style--there were just two things about this whole meetup that was bothering the shit out of him. First, romance wasn't really his jam. He liked to fool around, live on the edge... but with Bill, Bev, and _even_ _Stan_ settling down and snuggling up against someone, he did start to feel a little lonely in his friendships. Ben was great, he was smart and bright, and he had just the right amount of Shy Boy Energy that Bill liked. Mike was radiant, his name screamed empathy, and he was as sweet as candy--and Richie had to admit he hadn't seen Stan smile so wide in quite a long time. And Audra was soft and gentle with the right level of assertiveness, the perfect match to Beverly's firey high-energy. He was happy for his friends. No hate. Really, over the moon.

 

The thing he fucking _hated_ was being around couples.

 

But the second thing about this meetup? That was the most egregious. He thought that the reason that his friends wanted to drag him out to this party they were headed to is because Bill had a friend. His _best_ _friend_ in fact. And Richie had the sinking feeling that he was going to try to be hooked up with this friend.

 

Again... _gross_.

 

He finally made it to Stan's house—and since they've known each other, he's known that the door has stayed unlocked for him, and vice-versa. He walks in—not having to make himself at home, because in a way, he already _is_ home—and he already hears his friends laughing and taking the piss out of each other in the living room. Shit, he can't wait to take the piss out of all of them for this stupid idea (the idea that he will _never_ tell them he thinks is fucking stupid).

 

"Rich! You made it!" Bill greets him warmly as soon as he sees Richie's face peering into the living room from inside the kitchen. Bill hugs him, and Richie can't stop himself from smelling Bill's cologne. He tries to commit the smell to memory, even though he's smelled it millions of times before, just in case something

 

(someone-- a Ben or a Mike or an Audra)

 

were to ever

 

(take him away)

 

happen to him.

 

He lets Bill go, keeps the good feeling in the room as he squints his eyes. "Did you not think I was gonna show or something?" he teases.

 

Bill blushes,  actually looks slightly embarrassed—Bill Denbrough was not one for embarrassment—and cut his eyes down. Even laughs. "I mean, _yeah_ ," he said, talking slowly, deliberately; talking too fast caused him to stutter. "'Specially after we told you where we were going."

 

Richie rolls his eyes in good spirit, makes a sucking noise from between his teeth. "Nah, I was comin'. Can't have a party without the main attraction there." He then batted his eyelashes and gave a coy smile. "Which is _me_!"

 

Everybody laughs (and Stan tries to look like a hardass but the corners of his mouth curl up into a smile), and Richie takes pride in that. "But I _do_ wanna know," he continues,  his head tilting and his eyes wide, more innocence, "why we're going to _this_ party specifically."

 

"I didn't tell you?" Bill asks. He's got his bangs swept to the left like normal, and his hair up in a top-knot bun. That was one of the things that Richie was going to take the piss out of him about... he needs a _fucking_ haircut.

"It's my best friend's birthday party, actually. His birthday’s next month, but we always celebrate it early. Promised him I would go. He said bring friends or whatever, so we're all going now just to make him happy."

 

"Well, what's the name of said jackass that's dragging me out to a _birthday_ _party_?" Richie asks, trying to still sound lighthearted, but there's no humor in it.

 

"Eddie." Stan answers before Bill can, his legs sprawled out in Mike's lap as he doesn't even look up from browsing on his phone—and Richie wants to whine and ask Stan how the hell he knows this guy and never told him.

 

He also has the undying urge to clock this Eddie square in the face. Especially since he's _definitely_ going to be the guy that his friends try to hook him up with.

 

For the third time tonight: _gross_.

You know what? Whatever. He'll go along. He'll play their little game. As long as this Eddie is cute, at least.

 

 _He_ _better_ _be_. Richie pouted at the thought.

* * *

They had all rode in Mike's truck to this guy's house in since it was the only vehicle who could fit all seven of them comfortably. Stan had told Richie that Mike had name this truck Will, after his father—which was one of the many things that Stan loved about him. He could tell how much Stan was in love with him though he hadn't said yet: as they drove there, Mike had made some corny joke and Stan had gave him a smile and pinched his cheeks. Something so brisk—but seeing that Stan fucking _hated_ PDA or being touched, that's how Richie knew.

 

Eddie's house looked way bigger than what Bill had said it was going to be—honestly, for just him and his old lady, it seemed like overkill. But nonetheless, they all rattled out of Mike's truck and headed their way towards the house. All of their breath bounced around them, their cheeks red, all the couple's hands intertwined or laced around waists. Bill was the one to knock on the door... and some girl answered, not even this Eddie. Richie was starting to realize that he had been feeling off the whole car ride and it was because he was dreading meeting this Eddie. He was almost even _scared_ of this Eddie. He cut his eyes to the ground before they walked into the house and thought: _Do_ _I_ _even_ _wanna_ _know_ _what_ _this_ _kid_ _looks_ _like?_

 

 

Alcohol was a _great_ thing that was at this party. Bill had told him that this Eddie's Moms was out of the house, that she'd never let him have a party like this normally. He knew what Bill was trying to do. He was trying to fill in the gaps of this Eddie, make him a tangible person that Richie could almost touch before he even met him, so he would like him. Hold hands with him, fall in love with him, whatever the hell his friends wanted... shit, if he was cute, Richie would think about fucking him.

 

"—And she told him for a long time that he was really sick with all this stuff, but don't tell him I told you that," Bill was going on. "She tried for such a long time to make him scared of everything. But now, he's scared of _nothing_. I don't think. I dunno. I think he’s badass."

 

"Badass? But you said he's _short_!" Richie exclaimed, even sticking his tongue out, trying to deflect the things that Bill said. "I can't think a dude is badass when he's _short_!"

 

"Where'd you come up with _that_ fucking rule?" Bill teased, a laugh and playful scoff escaping from him. Right as Bill laughed, Ben and Audra laughed at something together, sitting with Stan and Mike as they all swished drinks in their hands. Bev sat in between her girlfriend and the boys, and cupped her hands over her mouth. Richie ribbed Bill with his elbow—their typical loving _aw_ _shit_ , _here_ _she_ _goes_ manuever.

 

"Ladies and gentle fellas!" she yelled, and everybody that accumulated in the living room turned their gaze to her. "May I have your attention, please! The Birthday Boy is coming down the stairs! I repeat: The Birthday Boy is coming down the stairs! Drum roll, please!"

 

Everybody smiled and began to drum-roll—even Stan, who after a few drinks always became a really good sport—but Richie had to roll his eyes, because even for him, he thought this was grandiose. He thought the whole over-the-top theatrical thing was his shtick. He was about to raise his hand up and stick out one special finger for this birthday boy ( _this_ _Eddie_ ) until he saw him coming down the stairs.

 

He walked down graciously, almost daintly—but there was confidence in that walk. Richie tried to fill in the rest of the gaps that Bill didn't have the time to fill. He had on a red college sweatshirt from some school in New York. He was stocky—and as short as Bill made him out to be, but it fit him—his skin lightly tanned, dark brown eyes and dark Italian curls; he had freckles like confetti, he had a smile that printed dimples in his face; he had a heart tattoo on his neck; he looked loud and sassy and and all the things that Bill had said he would be. He looked like he had the radiance of Ben and Mike, he looked like he had the assertiveness of Audra, he looked like he had the wit of Bill and Stan, and the fire of Beverly. And god, not to wax poetic, but Richie didn't just think he was cute... he was beautiful.

 

He wanted this dude to be boring, or ugly and uncaptivating, or just a random introduction, or nothing—but goddamn it, in this moment, this Eddie was _everything_.

 

"—to Richie," he heard an amused voice, and he finally registered that it was Bill's... and Bill was waving his hand in his face.

 

He blinked. "Huh?"

 

Bill laughed, and this Eddie—well, _just_ Eddie, now he had seen him—was suddenly standing right next to Bill, and he regarded Richie with the amused raise of an eyebrow. "I said earth to Richie. You look like you're on a different planet."

 

"Shit, sorry," he said dumbly—and he felt his cheeks flush in mortification. For one well-versed in theatrics, he wasn't one to get embarrassed either.

 

"It's cool," this Eddie— _just_ _Eddie_ —said. He turned to Bill with a smirk and said: "I get it. You’re not used to seeing pretty people, seeing that you hang out with Bill."

 

Bill snorted and ribbed Eddie with his elbow—which made sense; this _was_ Bill's best friend after all, he was forgetting that—and then cut his eyes playfully. "Fuck you!"

 

"I'm kidding." Eddie laughed too, those dimples imprinting his cheeks again... and fuck, it was happening. No, god-fucking-dammit. He was cute. _So_ cute. And _funny_ too? He also liked to take the piss out on Bill? Richie found himself not wanting to punch this Eddie anymore but instead to count every freckle on his face.

 

"So _you're_ the Richie that everyone's been telling me about." Eddie said this matter-of-factly, a Stan-like smile playing on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest.

 

(people have told you about me?)

 

"Yep! The One and Only, Richie Tozier. Think it over." He stuck out his hand for a formal handshake, even though formal was anything but his style, and

 

(did they say anything good?)

 

Eddie surprisingly returned the gesture, even though he snorted and raised his brow again.

 

"'Richie Tozier? Think it over?' How long it take you to come up with that?" Eddie teased, and even though Richie had initially just wanted to meet this dude, fool around once, and never see him again... he was very quickly learning that he liked Eddie's style.

 

He was really witty, he exceeded any looks that Richie could've imagined, and he could keep up with Richie's humor. Richie was enraptured. By his beauty, of course... nothing else. But somehow he found himself swept up by this kid like how sailors are swept up by sirens in the sea. Richie was _the_ _Richie_ and he was _this_ _Eddie_ , even if it was just between the two of them and the playful little glints in their eyes... and he liked this little game that they played.

 

Which is why he rebutted, “No time at all, baby! No time at all.” And he knew how it looked like to other people: that he was losing this little game. 

(but rest assured, Eddie Spaghetti, I’m _not_ gonna let you win this game)

( _if_ you wanna play it) 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldn’t resist basically a double upload abnskssla
> 
> this was so fun to write,,,,, i'm p sure i'm going to hell

There were two major things to note about Eddie:

 

1.) Other than Bill and Mike, he didn't really know anybody that Bill had invited to his party. Bill was his best friend after all, and he was buddies with Mike because they did their morning jogs and their yoga together. He knew of Ben through Mike, and Bev through Bill, and Audra through Bev, and this Richie through, _everybody_... so somehow, everybody's names and faces got caught up in the grapevine.

 

and,

 

2.) Bill said that Eddie was the strongest person that he knew. (Which, Eddie thought vice-versa, and that thought alone made him happy.) He knew that Bill thought he was a warrior king that wasn't scared of anything. And for the most part, he was. But there was only one thing that Eddie was truly scared of:

 

Vulnerability.

 

So when this Richie had come waltzing into his house, all messy dark hair and pretty smile, his stupid _Richie Tozier, Think it Over_... Eddie was really thrown for a loop. Really not he was expecting at all. He was a tall drink of water,

 

(and I'm thirsty, sadly)

 

his freckles rivaled Eddie's, and despite his grunge attire his eyes were bright. And Eddie's first natural inclination was to just... win him over. Which he didn't really think he was the best at doing. He didn't think he could charm himself out of a paper bag, but he may as well try, dammit. And besides, isn't that what both of them were here for? A good time? When he had asked Bill did he have any cute single friends who wanted to party, Bill had smirked and nudged him and said, “I think I may have one that's just your type.” (The best friend a man could ever ask for. Thanks, Bill. He's _exactly_ my type.) And he had a feeling that he was Richie's type, too.

 

He could almost see it in his eyes that Richie wanted him, and

 

(I want him so badly)

 

he may as well give the man a show.

 

 

"So what's the deal?" Him and Richie were sitting on opposite sides of the couch, in a comfortable silence (until Richie tried to light a cigarette. "Put that out. I have asthma",) until Richie spoke again. "It's _your_ party, right? You're the birthday boy and nobody's talking to you." He gestured over to all of their—well, Richie's, he guessed—drunk-ass friends, laughing and carrying on. Him and Richie might as well have been ghosts. Ben was straddling Bill's lap, completely inebriated ( _to a scary level,_ Eddie thought with dismay); he had taken down Bill's hair and was running his fingers through it as they made out. Eddie grimaced. Bill was basically like his big brother. That was fucking... disturbing. He didn't think he would ever get used to that.

 

Not only that, but relationships weren't really his style. Not anymore.

 

"They're ignoring you," Richie added in the silence. "They're all too doped up on love to remember why they dragged me here." Eddie huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, his defense mechanism... but he cut his eyes over to Richie in his peripheral.

 

Eddie didn't really have a response to the actual question of _why_ _are_ _we_ _being_ _ignored?_ Instead, he picked up on something else. "That sounded heinous. You good?"

 

"Oh, yeah. I'm _great_. Just seventh-wheeling over here!" Richie said this pretty cheerily, his Portrayal Voice—then dropped the octave back down to his regular Voice: "What's new." He must've felt Eddie's eyes on him, because he turned his head slightly to the side so that he wasn't really looking at Eddie, and his leg bounced up and down. Eddie tried to fill in the gaps of him. He wondered if leg bouncing was Richie's version of crossed arms.

 

And to this Eddie did have a response, but he treaded softly and carefully, just in case he was reading this wrong and crossing a boundary. "I mean," he spoke slowly, almost regretting saying anything at all, "you _don't_ have to, y'know."

 

This catches Richie's attention; he could finally see the other man looking at him again, still from the corner of his eye. "What?" Now he sounds genuinely confused.

 

Eddie smirks despite himself. For a guy who prided himself on flirting, he _really_ wasn't catching the hint. Cute.

 

Eddie, with his arms still crossed, stops regarding Richie out of just the corner of his eyes but instead turns his entire body towards him. "Okay. Let me put it this way. Why did you come here?"

 

"Because my friends dragged me?" Richie shrugs, his eyes wide. "I dunno—"

 

"Did you not have any idea of you wanted out of this? Like, you didn't wanna hook up with nobody or anything?" Let's cut to the chase here. "'Cause I saw how you were looking at me when I came down the stairs. _Those,_ Richie, were fuck-me eyes. So be honest with me: _why are you here?_ "

 

"Shit, sorry," Richie says, for the second time today—and Eddie notices that his leg is bouncing faster now. "I... uh, didn't realize that you noticed. That's my b. But you're _cute._ I mean... I guess Bill was wanting to hook us up?" Then, almost like he had misplaced his confidence and he had just found it: "And I'm down for whatever."

 

"So you're cool with being my birthday present is what you're saying."

 

Richie smirks. "Shit, _yeah!_ If you want me to be, I'm ready!"

 

(I don't think you're ready for me)

* * *

They're glued to each other from the couch, all the way up the stairs, and until Eddie clumsily leads them into his room and closes the door. He feels Richie already tugging at the hem of his sweatshirt, and not yet, eager beaver, we've still have more games to play. He nibbles on the bottom of Richie's lip, tasting lingering cigarettes and Tic-tacs there, and Richie returns the favor and runs his hands down his sides.

 

"Boost my ego," Eddie says in between standing on his tiptoes to kiss on Richie's neck. "Tell me that you want me."

 

" _God,_ Eddie," he breathes back, and man does a pretty boy groaning his name do things to him, "I want you so _bad._ " And Eddie is elated because

 

(oh God he really does want it too)

 

(you're so stupid don't get attached)

 

that's all that he needed to hear.

 

He scoops his arm underneath Richie's legs and swoops them from the ground, picks Richie up bridal-style (which earns him a squeak of what he can only guess is _what the hell!_ ) and throws him on the bed. He gets on top, slowly, right at home between Richie's legs, runs his hands through Richie's messy hair, runs his hands along the denim rips at Richie's knees. And a little higher...

 

(that's a good boy)

 

And Richie moans, looking at him through eyes eclipsed by lashes, trying to look at him with another _what the hell!_ but Eddie can tell that his heart's not in it. He's probably not used to being... in this position. He probably likes being in control, being on top, so that's most likely what he thought he was gonna get here.

 

Funny. Cute.

 

And he even tries to tell Eddie this, when Eddie swoops down and nibbles on the exposed parts of his neck. He tries to say something along the lines of, _"Consider yourself lucky because I never bottom!_ " but it gets lost between the lines of an _"Eddie, ahhh..."_ And Eddie is in bliss, because honestly, what could get better than this, he was sad and felt broken around the time of his annual party, and look at this, he's got a pretty boy in his bed as a present, wrapped in a bow...

 

...until his phone vibrates and both him and Richie are startled by the noise. He was right on the cusp of ignoring it until he looks and sees that it's Bill. And he had texted him some very terrible news.

 

**turtle!!!: Hey Bunny. We've got 2 shut it down. Ur mom is apparently on the way back.**

 

What the fucking hell!? That bitch wasn't supposed to be back for another two days! She's always gone visiting Aunt Sheila around this time, which is the very reason him and Bill started celebrating his birthday early in the first place. Eddie would rather do anything else than spend his birthday with his Ma.

 

"What's wrong, Eddie Spaghetti?" Richie asked, twirling some of Eddie's hair in a still-horny daze. He was trying to keep him in the mood. Which Eddie was all for... until he realized that they wouldn't have nearly enough time to fuck with ~~Sonia~~ Ma on the way back home so soon. If Bill was shutting the whole party down, then there was no telling how close she was. Probably at the door.

 

Eddie sighed and sat up a little in his bed, taking note in Richie's confusion on the change in pace. "I'm sorry, Rich. We can't. My mom is on the way home. So you gotta go. If she catches me with a boy in my room, she'll flip her shit."

 

 _"Awww, booo."_ Richie also sits up in the bed, then hops out of it and zips his pants back up (that he looked surprised were even unzipped in the first place). "I can't hide under your bed or nothing?"

 

(god that sounds tempting. I just want you to stay)

 

"Nah. It wouldn't work. I'm telling you, she's crazy. She checks everything. She'll find you."

 

"Well, I don't want you getting in trouble with your mommy," Richie says, adds a smirk—and it doesn't even sound mean when he says it like that; it just sounds flirty and playful. "So I'll take my bow." Then he does something weird: he walks to Eddie's window and opens it, letting all the cool air in

 

(you jackass! you're gonna get me sick!)

 

and then comes back over to the bed and kisses Eddie's hand.

 

"Goodbye, Spaghetti Head." Richie's voice was low and even, not nearly as deep as Mike's or his boyfriend's—in the same range as Bill's; a mid-tone. But he also gives Eddie a pretty smile, one that was bright and seemed genuine. "It was nice to meet you."

 

Eddie blushed and downcast his eyes. "Yeah, you too."

 

And Richie smiled again, slightly bit his lip (was he blushing?) and back to the window and began to careen himself out of it. "Don't worry about the window, dear—I'll close it for you on my way out!" He was doing some sort of Cockney British Voice that made Eddie snort and cock his brow just a little

 

(how cute and endearing is that).

 

And then he was gone, and Eddie blinked and thought it could've all been a dream until he saw that message from Bill still on his phone. He picked his phone up, hands numb and tingly somehow, and decided to text him back.

 

**bunny: Christ. Is everyone gone???**

**turtle!!!: Yeah, unless Richie is still in ur room hahah**

(shut up Bill)

 

**bunny: Thanks for being on the look out! Wondering why she didn't tell me this info tho lmao**

**bunny: I am her only son and everything lmao**

**bunny: Also no he's not still in my room smh**

**turtle!!!: Good call ; )**

**turtle!!!: And idk man u know she just likes..... surprises**

**bunny: Yeah right**

**bunny: Also before I forget**

(stop it you fucking jackass)

 

**bunny: Speaking of Richie**

 

(stop it seriously you're gonna get attached)

 

**bunny: What's his number**

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonia: where’s all my alcohol ùmú


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> maybe i should change the rating for this.... hmm
> 
> also i’m just gonna underline people’s chat names when they’re texting?
> 
> ALSO also viper and rudy? man i love recycling characters!

It was only when Richie wakes up did he realize that he was the only person in the apartment. He knew that his roommate Rudy (or Rudolph, if we’re being technical) was back at home in Arkansas for a couple of months for the holidays. His roommate Viper (or John, if we’re being technical)... now, he didn’t know where the hell that dude was. 

 

What the hell had even happened last night? All he knew was that Eddie (just Eddie) had tried to lay the moves on him and flip-flop him like a pancake. Which he ~~would’ve~~ wouldn’t have let happen... No, not at all.

 

No matter. What was over was over. It was fun for the night—at least they got to fool around. Regardless, he lay on his stomach (with a huff) and sent a message or two.

 

 **clyde** : stanna bananaaaa

 **clyde** : what r u doing? i miss uuuu

 **Ronnie** : I’m about to hang out with Mike

 

(when are you _not_ )

 

 **Ronnie** : if he’s free.

 **Ronnie** : But I miss you too! We’ve gotta hang out soon. When are you free btw?

 **clyde** : whenever babeyyy! 

 

Which wasn’t a lie. His hours at work were pretty flexible—and he didn’t care if he had just worked a double shift and he was about to drop to the ground, he wanted to hang out with Stan. There was one thing that Richie isn’t openly, and it’s a liar... when he said that he missed his friends, he really _did_ mean it.

 

 **Ronnie** : Cool, cool. How did you feel about Eddie’s party?

 **clyde** : good enough ig considerin i didn’t even know dude

 **clyde** : but he’s really cool..... i like him.

 **Ronnie** : !!!!???

 **clyde** : not like that stan

 **clyde** : he’s just cool

 **Ronnie** : Whatever

 **Ronnie** : Did you guys fuck?

 **clyde** _is_ _typing..._

 **Ronnie** : Nevermind, the party got shut down.

 **Ronnie** : Shit Mike just said he’s on his way and I’m not even dressed I’ll talk to you when I get back. I love you, best friend.

 **clyde** : ly2 bff! have fun

 **Ronnie** : You already know it ;-)

 

Well, that’s a bummer. Not that Stan puts noses in his smiley faces, but that he’s so caught up in his... chocolate drop and they couldn’t hang out. And Richie already knew that Bill and Bev were going to be caught up in a shy boy and an assertive girl.

 

But then he got two more messages. The first being:

 

 **big** **bill** : Lmao don’t be mad at me

 

Which was weird. Because why the hell would he _ever_ be mad at Big Bill? But then he got his answer. Which didn’t make him angry, per se—it just made him... shocked and confused. The _second_ message being:

 

 **(maybe)** **Eddie** : Hey Rich this is Eddie!! Sorry if this is weird but Bill gave me your number hahah

 

In which Richie is shamed to admit that he saved the number in his phone before responding. He feels some blush, some stupid blush, begin to sprout on his face despite himself. Whatever.

 

 **richie** : oh heeyyyy!

 **richie** : nah it ain’t weird at all dahlin

 **eddie** : Lmao okay (thank god or w/e)

 **eddie** : Do you wanna come over? Or I can come to you?

 **richie** : now THAT’S weird

 **eddie** : :’(

 

(haha that’s cute)

 

 **richie** : awww lmao jk

 **richie** : come over to me and we can have fun babe >: )

 **eddie** : Ahhhh yeah we can play sexy 20 questions

 **richie** :

 **richie** : wait were u being srs

 **eddie** : No

 **richie** : :’(

 **eddie** : Awww lmao.... jk ; )

 **eddie** : Text me your address!!!

 

Which he did. And if somebody were to ask Richie, he would tell them that it was just no big deal—maybe Eddie would come over, they would finish what they started, and he’d be on his way. But the truth was that Richie was geeked out for some reason. He didn’t like being alone, and he _did_ like cute company. This wasn’t a bad trade-off.

 

And the second thing that surprised him is when Eddie got to his apartment so fast

 

(he must be _great_ with directions and shit)

 

looking just as cute as yesterday, this time black pants and a grey sweater, and a hat—which he took off when he got inside—and gave him a hug.

 

(a hug? ah shit he’s so soft and smells so nice)

 

Almost as if he were reading his mind, Eddie looks up at him, a smile playing on his lips, and says: “You look almost as cute as you did last night.”

 

Richie put on his Let Me Speak to Your Manager Voice. _“_ _Almost!?”_

 

“Yeah, cause you look the _cutest_ when you’re moaning for me.”

 

There’s that stupid-ass, unnecessary-ass blush again. “‘Twas but a fluke, Eddie Spaghetti. It shan’t happen again.”

 

“It _won’t_?” Eddie asks. It’s a challenge. “Show me where your room is, then.”

 

Richie has never rushed to his room so fast.

* * *

One thing that Richie is learning about Eddie is that he, too, isnt openly a liar. Because teasing aside, they did lay out on Richie’s bed, side-by side, and Eddie did ask him: “So, you still up for playing 20 questions?”

 

“But you said you weren’t being serious! The _scandal_.”

 

“But I _also_ said ‘jk’.”

 

Damn. He got him there. Richie smirks—he supposed that this game that they were playing (and now a literal game) didn’t have to end so soon. “Okay. Shoot. You asking me did I wanna play counted as your first question, by the way.”

 

“What? _That’s_ _not_ _fair!_ ”

 

“That’s your second question.”

 

“‘What’ by itself is _not_ a question!”

 

Richie couldn’t help but to break out in cackles. After all of this time of Eddie getting the upper hand on him, Richie _finally_ felt that he had a leg up in their little game. It’s the small things.

 

“Okay, I’m done! Seriously, you get first go.”

 

Eddie seemed to think about this for a while. Finally, he asked a question that was simple enough. “How long have you been best friends with Stan?”

 

(how did you know that?)

 

Eddie smirks. “Bill told me. And Stan himself.”

 

(shit I said that out loud)

 

“Oh! Shit. Sorry. Okay well we’ve been best friends since we were kids. I’ve known him the longest, even longer than Big Bill—“

 

“ _Big_ _Bill?_ That’s cute.”

 

Richie snorts. “Okay, _Bunny_. But anyway yeah, we’ve been friends forever. He’s just... I dunno. I never really get to see him anymore.”

 

Eddies eyebrows furrow for just a second, and Richie tries to pretend not to notice that.

 

“My turn! Why do you still live with your mom?”

 

“Same reason Stan lives with his?”

 

“Stan’s still in high school; that doesn’t count!”

 

Eddie laughs. “I’m kidding. I was gonna tell you why! It’s ‘cause I keep trying to leave and she won’t let me. I did have money saved up to move, when I was 17... but then I went in my room one day it was gone.”

 

“ _She_ _fucking_ _stole_ _it!?”_

 

“I guess so.”

 

“That’s _fucked_.”

 

Eddie pauses at this, seems to try to hide his true feelings. “Mm... yeah. That’s life, though.”

 

They went on like this, asking each other all of the basic questions: what they’re going to school for; their favorite foods and their favorite colors. And they jumped back to some more personal ones: _Why is it just you and your mom?_ and _How’s_   _your_   _family_ _like?_ And, the mutual one they asked back to each other, but it should’ve been a given: _You’re_ _single,_ _right?_ (To which they both answered with a resounding yes, and they could laugh about it.) And it was actually a good exercise to get to know each other with.

 

But it seemed like with all of these questions was just Richie trying to skirt around the _actual_ question—the one that made gave him that stupid-ass blush and all of these stupid feelings that burned him up inside. The question being

 

(if you wanna go on with this, Eddie)

 

(then what would we be)

 

(and where would we stand?)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stan: did he just... did he just fucking call my man a chocolate drop


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man i really feel bad for richie's neighbors 
> 
> ahhh also the chats were fun to write bc i love mike!! i can't wait to do more interaction w ben and bev!
> 
> also, the first song rich plays from his playlist is this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R7A1mIdiheE

Eddie was tired. Exhausted, really.

 

If he had to choose like, a niche, he would pick cars every time. Eddie _loved_ cars. He was an artist (a decent one, _he_ thought,) he was a cheerleader for a little while, he ran track in high school... but cars were his _thing_. And Bill had his writing and Mike had his history and Eddie had dreams about cars that were candy-apple red.

 

That was his job—he _had_ to love them. He drove for Uber and he worked in his dad's old mechanic shop

 

(you're the reason I love them so much, dad)

 

and he normally drove and worked in the shop on the same days. And after all that driving and working in the shop, he was tired, tuckered out, just out-right knackered... physically. _Mentally,_ though, his mind was swimming with thoughts of ripped jeans and messy hair and bright eyes

 

(why the fuck do I _like_ him so much?)

 

He lay on his bed... but he couldn't sleep. His mind was occupied with... just, _bullshit._ And he never had a hard time falling asleep, so that was beyond him. But if his Ma ever taught him anything good, it would be: "If you talk about the Devil, he'll come knocking at your door". And that rang true when his phone vibrated, illuminated his room, and made all sorts of abstract shapes on his face.

 

That _fucking_ phone.

 

 **Rich** : ohhhh eddie spaghetti

 **Rich:** eddie mercury

 

(does he nickname everybody he knows? or just me?)

 

 **Rich:** u up?

 **Eddie:** If I wasn't up now I am lmao

 **Eddie:** Also I let it slide the first 46 times. Stop w/ the Eddie Spaghetti thing

 **Eddie:** Eddie Mercury is cool af tho!! I don't deserve the title

 **Eddie** : (I wasn't asleep btw)

 **Rich:** okay spaghetti head <3

 **Rich:** yeah freddie was a fuckin legend. he was a pioneer changed the game

 **Rich:**  also..... u wanna come over? since u ain't sleep >:)

 

(oh god ~~yes~~ no fuck)

**Eddie:** Uhhh. Sure!!! I'm omw

 

God dammit. What was he getting himself _into?_ Was he really going to stoop low enough to do booty-calls? And he asks himself this as he hops out of bed, throws on a hundred layers of clothes to fight the chill, sneaks past Ma's room, slides on his shoes. And pulls out his phone again. Who the hell was going to help him with this and what the hell does he do? He wasn't going to give Bill the satisfaction of knowing how much he liked his friend—besides, he wanted to go with someone

 

(not like that's what this is _about_ )

 

a little more romantic.

 

 **eddie is namasgay:** Michael please tell me that you're awake

 **mike's in down dog** _is typing..._

 **mike's in down dog:** yeah whats up!!!!

 **mike's in down dog:** workin on a paper tryin 2 stay awake lol

 **eddie is namasgay:** Oh dude BIG MOOD

 **eddie is namasgay:** I'm in need of gay advice!!!!

 **mike's in down dog:** ohhhh!? abt what??? richie!!??

 **eddie is namasgay:** -_- How did you fucking know

 **eddie is namasgay:** Have I complained to you about this already or something????

 **mike's in down dog:** heheh nah but i am datin the best friend of the guy ur crushin on remember??

 

Oh, yeah. That _was_ a thing that totally slips his mind.

 

 **eddie is namasgay:** It's not a crush!!!

 **eddie is namasgay:** Just. Top to Top: What if you were in a sit like this?? Like w Stan. What would you do?? Like if you guys weren't dating but liked each other would you be FWB?

 **mike's in down dog:** i'm vers

 **eddie is namasgay:** WHATEVER MIKE!!!!!

 **mike's in down dog:** HAHAHAH

 **mike's in down dog:** no but srsly i would do exactly like i did when i found out i liked him.... i asked him out!!! but if ur not ready for that rn then that's ok!!! i wouldn't rush it. but i know that u like him and y'all wanna fool around..... but y'all may wanna make it official later. tie the knot

 

Eddie knew in his heart-of-hearts that's what Mike was going to say. But he read and re-read the last part of Mike's message and cut his eyes. Sometimes he was just as heinous as Bill. And _foolish!_

 

 **eddie is namasgay:** Pffft!!!! I wouldn't go that far Mikey

 

And after he sends that last message, he finally sucks it up and stops running away from his problems. Instead, he drives to them.

 

 

Richie looks wide-awake, he's _also_ in a full outfit, and Eddie notices a little belatedly that he doesn't have his glasses on _(he must have contacts in)._ And he's got on makeup. Not too much—it looks like just winged eyeliner,

 

( _god_ that's fucking hot)

 

and that in conjunction with his dark clothes makes him look witch-y. Which Eddie quickly realizes that he likes.

 

 _"Eddie, darling!"_ Richie exclaims; even hugs Eddie super tight like he didn't just see him yesterday. He even makes a little show of holding Eddie away from his body like he's getting a good look at him. He's got some weird Southern belle lilt. "I thought you got lost on the way here."

 

"Nah, just dragging my ass," Eddie answers lamely. He even feels a heavy blush on his face that he's sure will wash out his freckles. What is there _really_ to say when Richie is standing in front of him looking _so good?_ Other than the obvious: "You look nice. What, you going somewhere?"

 

" _Went_ somewhere, my dear," Richie replies, not missing a beat. "I went to a show with Big Bill.

 

(oh yeah he _did_ say something about that didn't he)

 

It was at this cute little fuckin’  _to die for_ cafe offNeibolt and Witcham—tons of local artists. TONS. I had to show my supporty."

 

And there was this _thing_ about Richie when he talked, some cute little thing that Eddie wasn't going to stop, didn't want to stop really—this _thing,_ like, he smiled and laughed at himself and said stupid words and talked with his hands. And Eddie thought it was magical.

 

"Do you play at the shows, too?"

 

And normally with casual dating, Eddie wouldn't have really cared—as he learned very quickly that most people didn't care about him. But this was Richie and somehow, this was different. So when Richie grins so hard his eyes turn into half-moons and he nods like a kid... Eddie is elated in that.

 

 

"Why'd you invite me here so late?" Eddie was sure that he already knew the answer. But he's surprised when Richie looks at him with a straight face, almost sad eyes that Eddie couldn't tell where over-exaggerated or if Richie was actually upset by this, and he scans Richie's face for any sign of lie, and he couldn't find one—and says:

 

"Because I'm lonely."

 

(you're... you asked me to come because you're _lonely?_ )

 

"And I like _companyyyyy!_ " He perks up instantly; it was almost a night-and-day change. So leg-shaking wasn't the only thing he did to mask his emotions, huh. Eddie was a deflector, but Richie? He was an actor. He did it at the party, he did it when they were playing 20 questions yesterday, he was doing it now. He was in Portrayal Mode again, acting goofy and loud and like nothing could fucking bother him.

 

(you're better than me but we're _both_ bad at acting, y'know)

 

And he's still in Portrayal Mode—Eddie _thinks?—_ when he grabs his hand, and with the same energy, says, "Let's go _back_ to _my_ room!"

* * *

There were a lot of things about Richie's room that Eddie didn't notice the first time. He has all of these vinyls hanging up (with Command strips) on his walls—Nirvana and The Cure and Pink Floyd and Cage the Elephant—and many more. He has Amy Winehouse and Selena and Tupac plastered up too; he has clothes on his floor. He pulls out his phone and starts playing a playlist—the first song is by some band that Eddie swears he's heard before but doesn't know the name of.

Eddie had guessed that everything that was bothering them wasn't going to for the night. Because they're laying side-by-side on Richie's bed again, and Richie asks him a question—no Portrayal in his Voice, either. "Why me?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

Richie scans his eyes up on the ceiling, then around in a circle, like he's scanning for the right words. "I mean, why'd you choose _me?_ To do..." he gestures the air aroundhim with his hands. "... _this_ with. If this is more than a one-night-stand. Which, I mean, I _guess_ it is. We've seen each other's rooms.So like, why me of all people? There were so many better people you could've chosen. You were trying to pick the most annoying motherfucker you could, or what?"

 

He chuckles, but there's no humor in that, either. Eddie crosses his arms (before he even realizes that he's doing it). And then he says something that surprises the both of them: "It's because you're not annoying. And there’s  _nobody_ better than you, Richie."

 

(why did you _say_ that?)

 

And Richie stops then, no more jabs or forced laughter, and he finally makes eye contact with Eddie since the first time they came into his room. For once in his life, it seems like, he has nothing to say. When he finally _does_ say something, all he says is: "Really?"

 

(you've already said it now)

 

"Yeah. Really."

 

Now he's _really_ struggling for words—but Eddie figures now it's in a good way. "I mean—” he's inching closer, "I'm glad you said that," and now Richie's straddling his lap, "because _I think,_ " and he cups Eddie's face with both of his hands. "that there's nobody better _than you._ "

 

(oh god he's so beautiful his eyeliner he's so pretty kiss him _kiss him_ kiss him now)

 

And Eddie doesn't even smirk; it's a lazy smile. And he tilts his head at just a slight angle to kiss him. They give sweet little kisses at first, but then they're desperate—more fervent, hotter, heavier, and it seems like they have a wall between them because they can't get close enough to each other. And Eddie kisses his neck, just to hear that pretty groan again, and they're both running their hands all over each other, running their hands along denim rips and New York sweatshirts—running their hands all over each other as if they don't, then

 

(nobody will ever love me again)

 

the other will disappear into thin air and never come back.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eddie: what can I say? I'm a neck guy 🤷🏻♀️


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i have a thing for this girl and i see her in everything now. kms
> 
> sorry for the slow update y’all am sick!!

There was never a better time for Viper and Rudy to be gone (Rudy in Arkansas; Viper in... well, Richie still didn't know), because him and Eddie were _electric_. It's like every time they were around each other, hung out with each other, they couldn't keep their hands _off_ each other

 

(why _is_ that, anyway?).

 

The agreement was this: they were going to be friends with benefits, and in since they're not actually dating, they can fool around with other people (a thought that suddenly filled Richie with dismay the more he thought about it). Stay classy, always use condoms... and if even one of them started to develop feelings (that the other knew about, that is), then it was over.

 

And it was working out great. Really. They found any and every place they could to conduct that electricity—from Richie's truck to Eddie's Jeep and both of their places; in their living rooms ( _"not my_ Ma's _room!"_ Eddie told him... oh well, at least he tried), and on their floors. And it's

 

(magic)

 

really, really great.

 

Eddie has two jobs, doesn't he? He works for Uber (or was it Lyft?) and in his old man's shop fixing cars. Richie has two jobs too; he's a bagger in a grocery store and he works at a Spencer's

 

(not as cool as fixing cars)

 

so he and Eddie really had to be creative with their time. And sometimes it didn't always work out. So on the days that him and Eddie couldn't hang, grab a bite to eat, and _then some..._ he was realizing that he was very bored. Nowadays, he saw Eddie more than he saw his other friends. And that, friends and neighbors, made him very sad. So, even though there was no guarantee that this was going to work and they could all be busy—or even worse, _hate_ _him_ —he was going to try to change that.

 

**—The Royal Family—**

**king teezy:** u lame-os need to make time for ur boi

 **king teezy:** we could all go out to eat if were free.

 **king teezy:** pretty please? i'll pay

 

And naturally, Bill is the first to respond

 

 **king denbrough** : I'm not going 2 let u pay for me hahah

 

and Stan second.

 

 **Stanley I:** I'm not going to let you pay for me.

 

(god damn. why did you guys break up again?)

 

 **king teezy:** so does that mean u guys are fwee? owo

 **Stanley I:** Yes. Don't ever type that again.

 **king denbrough:** Roger t h a t

 **queen bevvie:** ya gurl is free uwu!

 **Stanley I:** _STOP_

**king teezy: _E X C E L L E N T_**

**king teezy:** we must all meet up at one mutual location and partake in the consumption of food

 **king denbrough:** NICE I WANT IHOP

 **king teezy:** why stop stanley? stanlie? stanleigh?

 **queen bevvie:** stanlye? stanlee?

 **king denbrough:** (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

 **Stanley** **I:** Ffs let's just go to IHOP

* * *

So the four of them meet up, just like old times—Stan and Bill dressed in numerous layers, Richie and Bev _not quite_ dressed for the weather; Stan getting his usual order of pancakes and splitting them with Richie because he can never finish them all.

 

They fall into their usual banter; the banter of four friends who have known each other forever: Bill and Richie having a contest on who can take the piss out of each other the most; Bev and Stan contemplating on their future dreams. Then they switch it up—Richie and Bev show each other dank memes from their phones and Stan and Bill talk about baseball. And then—Richie knew, he just _knew—_ the conversations took a turn for the romantic when Bill halts the baseball talk and looks at Stan and asks him: "So how's that man of yours'?"

 

And Stan cuts his eyes down, even blushes, and his mouth curls up into a little half-smile as he says: "He's pretty damn good. He wants us to move in together."

 

And Richie is actually shocked by this—he scares the rest of the table by accidentally slamming his hands a little too hard on it. "Fucking _for real?_ Are you gonna?"

 

"I _want_ to," Stan answers honestly, maybe even a little embarrassed by it. "I mean, I..." he darts his eyes around. He's redder now. "I _love_ Mike. I wanna spend the rest of my life with him, so I may as well."

 

Bill and Bev clap for this, which adds to Stan's embarrassment—and Richie would be down for the theatrics if he didn't feel a sudden overwhelming feeling of dread? Of dismay? Of... of a feeling he can't really place.

 

(you wanna _move in_ with him?)

 

"Well, how's that man of _yours'?_ " Stan asks back. The blush is flushing out of his face—he must be happy for all of the spotlight to be off him now. And Bill smirks a little and crosses his arms

 

(huh, him and Eddie both do that)

 

and answers. "Pretty damn good. Pretty much done packing now." This answer is enough to satisfy Stan; he hums lightly with that same little smile playing on his face as he cuts his pancakes.

 

And Richie also knew, _just knew,_ that Bev was going to cut her eyes to him with that devilish smirk playing on her face, and ask him, "Well how's that _man of yours?_ " (and for emphasis, she clapped in between every word)... and Stan and Bill cut their eyes to Richie as well, hanging on to whatever words he was about to say.

 

"First of all, he ain't my man," Richie corrects, and he waggles a finger at her—but there's a big shit-eating grin on his face. " _Second_ of all, it's going _great._ He's fun. He's cute. And the best damn lay I've ever had in my life. Arigato, Bill Sensei. I _owe you_ my life."

 

And Bill chuckles, looking quite proud of himself and his arms still crossed as he looks slightly past Richie and Stan's heads—and everybody notices. Stan and Richie turn their heads and Bev tries to crane her head so she can see. And Richie guesses that everybody sees at the same time, but Bill is the first one to say something about it—and he sounds angry.

 

"Why the fu-u-uck i-is he with that a-asshole? I thought he was done with him."

 

It's Eddie.

 

If you look out from where the Royal Family are sitting, you can see Eddie out at the cafe across the street, in one of the little tables outside... with some guy. Richie can only assume that it's an ex because of what Bill said,

 

(who the _fuck_ is he why is he with him what the _fuck_ )

 

but Eddie doesn't really look too happy to be there. He has his chin resting on his head, and every now and then he'll shake his head yes or no—but other than that, he doesn't really say much... not with his _voice_ , it seems. But even from where they're sitting, Richie can see the frown pulling his mouth down, or his eyebrows will furrow, or he'll start to smile and Richie can see his shoulders heave a little—but he's been around Eddie enough to know that there's no humor in it. It's an angry laugh. A bitter laugh. A _you're so full of shit that I find it funny_ laugh.

 

And behind him, he hears a keyboard clicking—which he guesses is Bill's phone, and he answers correctly, because a few seconds later, Eddie looks down, opens his phone up, and frowns. But now it looks like a sad frown. He starts typing back on his own phone, furrows his brows and says something to the guy he's with.

 

And then two phones at the Royal Family's table pings—Bill's and Richie's. Richie doesn't know what Bill's message says,

 

(do I even _wanna_ know)

 

(yes the fuck I want to know)

 

( _why_ do I want to know?)

 

but _his_ makes him feel a little better... but confuses him even more at the same time.

 

 **eddie mercury:** Out eating lunch w my ex!!!!

 **eddie mercury:** Save me Richieeeee

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill: he almost made the devil jump out of me


End file.
